The Welsh Fairy Book: Why Deunant has the Front Door in the Back

The "black quarter" disease referred to here, also known as blackleg, is a bacterial disease that can affect cattle, sheep and goats. The illustration is really fantastic; be sure to take a look at the illustration again after you read the story so that you can appreciate the details!

Explore: For other stories about the boundary of the fairy world and our world, see Owen Goes A-Wooing and Einion and the Fair Family.

[notes by LKG]

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This story is part of the Welsh Fairy Tales unit. Story source: The Welsh Fairy Book by W. Jenkyn Thomas with illustrations by Willy Pogány (1908).

Why Deunant has the Front Door in the Back

THE cattle of the farmer living at Deunant, close to Aberdaron, were grievously afflicted with the "short disease," which is the malady known in English as the black quarter. Naturally, he thought they were bewitched.

Old Beti'r Bont, whose character was by no means above suspicion — she was thought to earn her living by stealing babies for the fairies — had called at Deunant when they were feathering geese and had begged much for one, but she had been refused, and the farmer concluded she was taking her revenge by harassing his stock.

So he went to old Beti and told her that he would tie her hands and feet and throw her into a river unless she removed the charm. She vehemently denied possessing any magical powers, and repeated the Lord's Prayer correctly in proof of her innocence.

The farmer was not altogether convinced even by this, and made her say, "Rhad Duw ar y da," "God's blessing be on the cattle." Now, if this is spoken over bewitched animals, they are always freed from their disease, but the farmer's stock was no better even after his invocation, and he was at his wits' end.

One night before going to bed he was standing a few steps in front of his house, meditating over his trouble. "I cannot imagine why the cattle do not get better," said he out loud to himself.

"I will tell you," said a squeaky little voice close by him. The farmer turned in the direction of the sound and saw a tiny little man, looking very angrily at him.

"It is," continued the mannikin, "because your family keeps on annoying mine so much."

"How is that?" asked the farmer, surprised and puzzled.

"They are always throwing the slops from your house down the chimney of my house," said the little man.

"That cannot be," retorted the farmer, "there is no house within a mile of mine."

"Put your foot on mine," said the small stranger, "and you will see that what I say is true."

The farmer complying, put his foot on the other's foot, and he could clearly see that all the slops thrown out of his house went down the chimney of the other's house which stood far below in a street he had never seen before. Directly he took his foot off the other's, however, there was no sign of house or chimney.

"Well, indeed, I am very sorry," said the farmer. "What can I do to make up for the annoyance which my family has caused you?"

The tiny little man was satisfied by the farmer's apology, and he said: "You had better wall up the door on this side of your house and make another in the other side. If you do that, your slops will no longer be a nuisance to my family and myself." Having said this he vanished in the dusk of the night.

The farmer obeyed, and his cattle recovered. Ever after he was a most prosperous man, and nobody was so successful as he in rearing stock in all Lleyn. Unless they have pulled it down to build a new one, you can see his house with the front door in the back.

Next: The Bride from the Red Lake

(600 words)

More Celtic Fairy Tales: The Vision of MacConglinney (cont.)

This story is part of the Celtic Fairy Tales (2) unit. Story source: More Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1895).

The Vision of MacConglinney (cont.)

"There in the harbour of the lake before me I saw a juicy little coracle of beef: its thwarts were of curds, its prow of lard  its stern of butter; its oars were flitches of venison. Then I rowed across the wide expanse of the New Milk Lake, through seas of broth, past river mouths of meat, over swelling boisterous waves of butter milk, by perpetual pools of savoury lard, by islands of cheese, by headlands of old curds, until I reached the firm level land between Butter Mount and Milk Lake, in the land of O'Early-eating, in front of the hermitage of the Wizard Doctor.

"Marvellous, indeed, was the hermitage. Around it were seven-score hundred smooth stakes of old bacon, and instead of thorns above the top of every stake was fixed juicy lard. There was a gate of cream, whereon was a bolt of sausage. And there I saw the doorkeeper, Bacon Lad, son of Butterkins, son of Lardipole, with his smooth sandals of old bacon, his legging of pot-meat round his shins, his tunic of corned beef, his girdle of salmon skin round him, his hood of flummery about him, his steed of bacon under him, with its four legs of custard, its four hoofs of oaten bread, its ears of curds, its two eyes of honey in its head; in his hand a whip, the cords whereof were four-and-twenty fair white puddings, and every juicy drop that fell from each of these puddings would have made a meal for an ordinary man.

"On going in I beheld the Wizard Doctor with his two gloves of rump steak on his hands, setting in order the house, which was hung all round with tripe, from roof to floor.

"I went into the kitchen, and there I saw the Wizard Doctor's son, with his fishing hook of lard in his hand, and the line was made of marrow, and he was angling in a lake of whey. Now he would bring up a flitch of ham, and now a fillet of corned beef. And as he was angling, he fell in, and was drowned.

"As I set my foot across the threshold into the house, I saw a pure white bed of butter, on which I sat down, but I sank down into it up to the tips of my hair. Hard work had the eight strongest men in the house to pull me out by the top of the crown of my head.

"Then I was taken in to the Wizard Doctor. 'What aileth thee ?' said he.

"My wish would be, that all the many wonderful viands of the world were before me, that I might eat my fill and satisfy my greed. But alas! Great is the misfortune to me, who cannot obtain any of these.

"'On my word,' said the Doctor, 'the disease is grievous. But thou shall take home with thee a medicine to cure thy disease, and shalt be for ever healed therefrom.'

"'What is that ?' asked I.

"'When thou goest home to-night, warm thyself before a glowing red fire of oak, made up on a dry hearth, so that its embers may warm thee, its blaze may not burn thee, its smoke may not touch thee. And make for thyself thrice nine morsels, and every morsel as big as an heath fowl's egg, and in each morsel eight kinds of grain, wheat and barley, oats and rye, and therewith eight condiments, and to every condiment eight sauces. And when thou hast prepared thy food, take a drop of drink, a tiny drop, only as much as twenty men will drink, and let it be of thick milk, of yellow bubbling milk, of milk that will gurgle as it rushes down thy throat. And when thou hast done this, whatever disease thou hast, shall be removed. Go now,' said he, 'in the name of cheese, and may the smooth juicy bacon protect thee, may yellow curdy cream protect, may the cauldron full of pottage protect thee.'"

Now, as MacConglinney recited his vision, what with the pleasure of the recital and the recounting of these many pleasant viands, and the sweet savour of the honeyed morsels roasting on the spits, the lawless beast that dwelt within the king, came forth until it was licking its lips outside its head.

Then MacConglinney bent his hand with the two spits of food and put them to the lips of the king, who longed to swallow them, wood, food, and all. So he took them an arm's length away from the king, and the lawless beast jumped from the throat of Cathal on to the spit. MacConglinney put the spit into the embers, and upset the cauldron of the royal house over the spit. The house was emptied, so that not the value of a cockchafer's leg was left in it, and four huge fires were kindled here and there in it. When the house was a tower of red flame and a huge blaze, the lawless beast sprang to the rooftree of the palace, and from thence he vanished, and was seen no more.

As for the king, a bed was prepared for him on a downy quilt, and musicians and singers entertained him going from noon till twilight.

And when he awoke, this is what he bestowed upon the scholar: a cow from every farm, and a sheep from every house in Munster. Moreover, that so long as he lived, he should carve the king's food, and sit at his right hand.

Thus was Cathal, King of Munster, cured of his craving, and MacConglinney honoured.

Next: Dream of Owen O'Mulready

(Castle of the Munster Kings, Ireland)

(1000 words)

Infancy: Curing the Leprosy

This story is part of the Infancy Gospels unit. Story source: The Lost Books of the Bible, edited by Rutherford H. Platt, Jr. (1926): The First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ.

Curing the Leprosy

(Madonna and Child, by Deodato Orlandi)

In this place they abode three days, meeting with the greatest respect and most splendid entertainment. And being then furnished by the people with provisions for the road, they departed and went to another city, in which they were inclined to lodge because it was a famous place.

There was in this city a gentlewoman who, as she went down one day to the river to bathe, behold: cursed Satan leaped upon her in the form of a serpent, and folded himself about her belly, and every night lay upon her.

This woman seeing the Lady St. Mary, and the Lord Christ the infant in her bosom, asked the Lady St. Mary that she would give her the child to kiss and carry in her arms. When she had consented, and as soon as the woman had moved the child, Satan left her and fled away, nor did the woman ever afterwards see him. Hereupon all the neighbours praised the Supreme God, and the woman rewarded them with ample beneficence.

On the morrow the same woman brought perfumed water to wash the Lord Jesus, and when she had washed him, she preserved the water.

And there was a girl there, whose body was white with a leprosy, who, being sprinkled with this water and washed, was instantly cleansed from her leprosy.

The people therefore said, "Without doubt Joseph and Mary and that boy are Gods, for they do not look like mortals."

And when they were making ready to go away, the girl, who had been troubled with the leprosy, came and desired they would permit her to go along with them; so they consented, and the girl went with them till they came to a city, in which was the palace of a great king, and whose house was not far from the inn.

Here they staid and, when the girl went one day to the prince's wife and found her in a sorrowful and mournful condition, she asked her the reason of her tears.

She replied, "Wonder not at my groans, for I am under a great misfortune, of which I dare not tell any one."

"But," says the girl, "if you will entrust me with your private grievance, perhaps I may find you a remedy for it."

"Thou, therefore," says the prince's wife, "shalt keep the secret, and not discover it to any one alive! I have been married to this prince, who rules as king over large dominions, and lived long with him before he had any child by me. At length I conceived by him, but alas! I brought forth a leprous son which, when he saw, he would not own to be his, but said to me, 'Either do thou kill him, or send him to some nurse in such a place that he may be never heard of, and now take care of yourself; I will never see you more.' So here I pine, lamenting my wretched and miserable circumstances. Alas, my son! Alas, my husband! Have I disclosed it to you?"

The girl replied, "I have found a remedy for your disease, which I promise you, for I also was leprous, but God hath cleansed me, even he who is called Jesus, the son of the Lady Mary."

The woman inquiring where that God was whom she spake of, the girl answered "He lodges with you here in the same house."

"But how can this be?" says she; "where is he?"

"Behold, "replied the girl, "Joseph and Mary, and the infant who is with them is called Jesus: and it is he who delivered me from my disease and torment."

"But by what means," says she, "were you cleansed from your leprosy? Will you not tell me that?"

"Why not?" says the girl; "I took the water with which his body had been washed and poured it upon me, and my leprosy vanished."

The prince's wife then arose and entertained them, providing a great feast for Joseph among a large company of men. And the next day took perfumed water to wash the Lord Jesus, and afterwards poured the same water upon her son, whom she had brought with her, and her son was instantly cleansed from his leprosy.

Then she sang thanks and praises unto God, and said, "Blessed is the mother that bare thee, O Jesus! Dost thou thus cure men of the same nature with thyself with the water with which thy body is washed?"

She then offered very large gifts to the Lady Mary, and sent her away with all imaginable respect.

Next: The Mule (Infancy Gospel)

(800 words)

La Fontaine: Horses (Wright)

These stories are part of the La Fontaine unit. Story source: The Fables of La Fontaine translated by Elizur Wright (1882).

(illustration by Salomon)

The Horse Wishing To Be Revenged On The Stag 

The horses have not always been
The humble slaves of men.

When, in the far-off past,
The fare of gentlemen was mast,
And even hats were never felt,
Horse, ass, and mule in forests dwelt,
Nor saw one then, as in these ages,
So many saddles, housings, pillions —
Such splendid equipages,
With golden-lace postilions —
Such harnesses for cattle,
To be consumed in battle,
As one saw not so many feasts,
And people married by the priests.

The horse fell out, within that space,
With the antlered stag, so fleetly made;
He could not catch him in a race,
And so he came to man for aid.

Man first his suppliant bitted;
Then, on his back well seated,
Gave chase with spear, and rested not
Till to the ground the foe he brought.

This done, the honest horse, quite blindly,
Thus thanked his benefactor kindly:
"Dear sir, I'm much obliged to you;
I'll back to savage life. Adieu!"

"O, no," the man replied;
"You'd better here abide;
I know too well your use.
Here, free from all abuse,
Remain a liege to me,
And large your provender shall be."

Alas! good housing or good cheer,
That costs one's liberty, is dear.

The horse his folly now perceived,
But quite too late he grieved:
No grief his fate could alter;
His stall was built, and there he lived,
And died there in his halter.

Ah! wise had he one small offence forgot:
Revenge, however sweet, is dearly bought
By that one good, which gone, all else is nothing.

The Horse and the Wolf 

A wolf, what time the thawing breeze
Renews the life of plants and trees,
And beasts go forth from winter lair
To seek abroad their various fare —
A wolf, I say, about those days,
In sharp look-out for means and ways,
Espied a horse turned out to graze;
His joy the reader may opine.

"Once got," said he, "this game were fine;
But if a sheep, it were sooner mine.
I can't proceed my usual way;
Some trick must now be put in play."

This said,
He came with measured tread,
As if a healer of disease —
Some pupil of Hippocrates —
And told the horse, with learned verbs,
He knew the power of roots and herbs —
Whatever grew about those borders —
And not at all to flatter
Himself in such a matter,
Could cure of all disorders.

If he, Sir Horse, would not conceal
The symptoms of his case,
He, Doctor Wolf, would gratis heal;
For that to feed in such a place,
And run about untied,
Was proof itself of some disease,
As all the books decide.

"I have, good doctor, if you please,"
Replied the horse, "as I presume,
Beneath my foot, an aposthume."

"My son," replied the learned leech,
"That part, as all our authors teach,
Is strikingly susceptible
Of ills which make acceptable
What you may also have from me —
The aid of skilful surgery;
Which noble art, the fact is,
For horses of the blood I practise."

The fellow, with this talk sublime,
Watched for a snap the fitting time.

Meanwhile, suspicious of some trick,
The wary patient nearer draws
And gives his doctor such a kick,
As makes a chowder of his jaws.

Exclaimed the wolf, in sorry plight,
"I own those heels have served me right:
I erred to quit my trade,
As I will not in future;
Me nature surely made
For nothing but a butcher."

Next: Dogs (Wright)

(illustration in Baby's Book of Fables)

(500 words)

Infancy: The Rival Women

This story is part of the Infancy Gospels unit. Story source: The Lost Books of the Bible, edited by Rutherford H. Platt, Jr. (1926): The First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ.

The Water Well

(Angels with the infant Jesus)

WHEN they came afterwards into the city Bethlehem, they found there several very desperate distempers which became so troublesome to children by seeing them that most of them died. There was there a woman who had a sick son whom she brought, when he was at the point of death, to the Lady St. Mary, who saw her when she was washing Jesus Christ. Then said the woman, "O my Lady Mary, look down upon this my son, who is afflicted with most dreadful pains."

St. Mary hearing her, said, "Take a little of that water with which I have washed my son, and sprinkle it upon him."

Then she took a little of that water, as St. Mary had commanded, and sprinkled it upon her son who, being wearied with his violent pains, had fallen asleep, and after he had slept a little, awaked perfectly well and recovered.

The mother, being abundantly glad of this success, went again to St. Mary, and St. Mary said to her, "Give praise to God, who hath cured this thy son."

There was in the same place another woman, a neighbour of her whose son was now cured. This woman's son was afflicted with the same disease, and his eyes were now almost quite shut, and she was lamenting for him day and night. The mother of the child which was cured, said to her, "Why do you not bring your son to St. Mary, as I brought my son to her, when he was in the agonies of death; and he was cured by that water, with which the body of her son Jesus was washed?"

When the woman heard her say this, she also went, and having procured the same water, washed her son with it, whereupon his body and his eyes were instantly restored to their former state. And when she brought her son to St. Mary and opened his case to her, she commanded her to give thanks to God for the recovery of her son's health, and tell no one what had happened.

THERE were in the same city two wives of one man, who had each a son sick. One of them was called Mary and her son's name was Caleb. She arose, and taking her son, went to the Lady St. Mary, the mother of Jesus, and offered her a very handsome carpet, saying, "O my Lady Mary accept this carpet of me, and instead of it give me a small swaddling cloth." To this Mary agreed, and when the mother of Caleb was gone, she made a coat for her son of the swaddling cloth, put it on him, and his disease was cured; but the son of the other wife died.

Hereupon there arose between them, a difference in doing the business of the family by turns, each her week. And when the turn of Mary the mother of Caleb came, and she was heating the oven to bake bread and went away to fetch the meal, she left her son Caleb by the oven, whom, the other wife, her rival, seeing to be by himself, took and cast him into the oven, which was very hot, and then went away.

Mary on her return saw her son Caleb lying in the middle of the oven laughing and the oven quite as cold as though it had not been before heated, and she knew that her rival the other wife had thrown him into the fire. When she took him out, she brought him to the Lady St. Mary and told her the story, to whom she replied, "Be quiet; I am concerned lest thou shouldest make this matter known."

After this her rival, the other wife, as she was drawing water at the well and saw Caleb playing by the well and that no one was near, took him and threw him into the well. And when some men came to fetch water from the well, they saw the boy sitting on the superficies of the water, and drew him out with ropes, and were exceedingly surprised at the child, and praised God.

Then came the mother and took him and carried him to the Lady St. Mary, lamenting and saying, "O my Lady, see what my rival hath done to my son, and how she hath cast him into the well, and I do not question but one time or other she will be the occasion of his death."

St. Mary replied to her, "God will vindicate your injured cause."

Accordingly a few days after, when the other wife came to the well to draw water, her foot was entangled in the rope so that she fell headlong into the well, and they who ran to her assistance, found her skull broken and bones bruised. So she came to a bad end, and in her was fulfilled that saying of the author, "They digged a well, and made it deep, but fell themselves into the pit which they prepared."

Next: Jesus the Healer (Infancy Gospel)

(900 words)

Odyssey: The Spirit of Anticleia

This story is part of the Odyssey unit. Story source: Homer's Odyssey, translated into English by Tony Kline. (2004).

The Spirit of Anticleia

With this the ghost of Lord Teiresias, its prophecy complete, drew back to the House of Hades. But I remained, undaunted, till my mother approached and drank the black blood.

Then she knew me, and in sorrow spoke to me with winged words: “My son, how do you come, living, to the gloomy dark? It is difficult for those alive to find these realms, since there are great rivers and dreadful waters between us: not least Ocean that no man can cross except in a well-made ship. Do you only now come from Troy, after long wandering with your ship and crew? Have you not been to Ithaca yet, not seen your wife and home?”

To this I replied: “Mother, necessity brought me to Hades’ House, to hear the ghost of Theban Teiresias, and his prophecy. No, I have not yet neared Achaea’s shores, not set foot in my own country, but have wandered constantly, burdened with trouble, from the day I left for Ilium, the city famous for horses, with noble Agamemnon, to fight the Trojans. But tell me now, in truth, what pitiless fate overtook you? Was it a wasting disease, or did Artemis of the Bow attack you with her gentle arrows, and kill you? And what of my father and son I left behind? Does my realm still rest with them, or has some other man possessed it, saying I will no longer return? And tell me of my wife, her thoughts and intentions. Is she still with her son, and all safe? Or has whoever is best among the Achaeans wedded her?”

So I spoke, and my revered mother swiftly replied: “Truly, that loyal heart still lives in your palace, and in weeping the days and night pass sadly for her. No man has taken your noble realm, as yet, and Telemachus holds the land unchallenged, feasting at the banquets of his peers, at least those it is fitting for a maker of laws to share, since all men invite him. But your father lives alone in the fields, not travelling to the city, and owns no bed with bright rugs and cloaks for bedding, but sleeps where serfs sleep, in the ashes by the hearth all winter through, and wears only simple clothes. When summer comes and mellow autumn, then you will find his humble beds of fallen leaves, scattered here and there on the vineyard’s slopes. There he lies, burdened with age, grieving, nursing great sadness in his heart, longing for your return. So too fate brought me to the grave. It was not the clear-sighted Goddess of the Bow who slew me in the palace with gentle arrows, nor did I die of some disease, one of those that often steals the body’s strength, and wastes us wretchedly. No, what robbed me of my life and its honeyed sweetness was yearning for you, my glorious Odysseus, for your kindness and your counsels.”

So she spoke, and I wondered how I might embrace my dead mother’s ghost. Three times my will urged me to clasp her, and I started towards her, three times she escaped my arms like a shadow or a dream.  And the pain seemed deeper in my heart. Then I spoke to her with winged words: “Mother, since I wish it why do you not let me embrace you, so that even in Hades’ House we might clasp our arms around each other and sate ourselves with chill lament? Are you a mere phantom royal Persephone has sent, to make me groan and grieve the more?

My revered mother replied quickly: “Oh, my child, most unfortunate of men, Persephone, Zeus’ daughter, does not deceive you: this is the way it is with mortals after death. The sinews no longer bind flesh and bone, the fierce heat of the blazing pyre consumes them, and the spirit flees from our white bones, a ghost that flutters and goes like a dream. Hasten to the light, with all speed: remember these things, to speak to your wife of them.”

Next: The Ghosts of Famous Women

(Penelope, Telemachus, and the aged Laertes,

awaiting Odysseus's return in Ithaca;

early 16th-century French manuscript)

(700 words)

Jataka: The Dreamer in the Wood

If you look at the full version of this story — the Kanha-Jataka — you can find the verse that the holy man speaks to Sakka at the end of the story:

O Sakka, lord of all the world, a choice thou bidst declare:
No creature be aught harmed for me, O Sakka, anywhere,
Neither in body nor in mind: this, Sakka, is my prayer.

[Notes by LKG]

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This story is part of the Jataka Tales unit. Story source: Eastern Stories and Legends by Marie L. Shedlock (1920).

The Dreamer in the Wood

NOW the Buddha once upon a time lived alone in the woods, in the ecstasy of meditation. For wild fruits he went no further afield. When fruit grew upon the tree, he ate the fruit; in time of flowers, he ate flowers. When the leaves grew, he ate leaves. When leaves were none, he ate the bark of trees. Thus, in the highest contentment he lived a long time in that place.

Now on a day, Sakka, the King of the gods, appeared before him and, wishing to test him, said: "Behold yon man, all black of hue, my spirit likes him not."

Now by his divine insight the Buddha knew that Sakka spoke to him. And he made answer and said: "Though black of hue, I am a true Brahmin. A man is not black by reason of his outer skin; only can sin make him black."

Thus he discoursed to Sakka, and it was as he had made the moon to rise in the sky. And the god asked him what boon he would crave.

And the Divine being asked to be free of three things: malice, hatred and greed.

Then Sakka: "What is bad in these things?"

And Buddha made answer, "Because hatred grows from small to great and is ever full of bitterness. Malice brings evil. First word, then touch, next fist, then staff, and last the swordstroke flashing free. When men are urged by greed, then arise fraud and deceit and swift pursuit of savage loot—"

"Then," said Sakka, "choose another boon."

Then said the Buddha, "Grant that in the woods where I live alone, no disease may mar my peace, or break my ecstasy."

Then said Sakka, "He chooseth no thing connected with food." And he granted yet another boon.

And the Buddha said, "Let no creature ever be harmed for me in body or in mind."

And Sakka made the tree bear fruit perennially, and saluting the Buddha by touching his head with joined hands, he said: "Dwell here for ever free from disease," and returned to his throne.

Next: The Rice Measure

(Buddha, photo by Cbill)

(400 words)

Tales of a Parrot: Of a Brahmin Falling in Love

This story is part of the Tales of a Parrot unit. Story source: The Tooti Nameh or Tales of a Parrot, by Ziya'al-Din Nakhshabi (1801).

Of a Brahmin Falling in Love with the King of Babylon's Daughter

When the sun sunk into the west and the moon appeared in the east, Khojisteh went to the parrot to ask leave and said, "O thou wise bird, whose counsels are prudent and who acts the part of a friend! If you think it adviseable, delay not today in giving me permission, or else speak plainly to the end that I may be patient and make choice of retirement."

The parrot answered, "Every night I give you leave, but I know not what kind of luck attends you that it will never befriend you. It is incumbent on you to go quickly today and have an interview with your lover: however, give ear to my counsel that you may act in such a manner that no misfortune may befall you, but advantage or prosperity — like as the brahmin, who, having fallen in love with the daughter of the king of Babylon, got possession not only of his beloved, but also of money and property, without suffering any misfortune."

Khojisteh asked, "What is the nature of his story?"

The parrot began:

Once on a time, a brahmin, who was both handsome and discreet, having thought proper to quit his city and native soil, went to the city of Babylon. One day as this brahmin was walking in a garden, the daughter of the king of Babylon came also to the same spot, to take an airing and to view the display of flowers. The brahmin and the virgin were mutually enamoured of each other at the first glance.

When she returned home, she became distracted, and the brahmin, on returning to his habitation, fell sick. In short, the brahmin went to a magician and entered into his service.

After some time, the magician was quite confounded how to requite his great attention and faithful services. One day he said to him, "Ask me for anything that you desire, and I will give it; shew and declare what it is that you want."

The brahmin discovered his situation to the magician, who said, "I thought you would have asked for a gold mine – what mighty business is it to bring man and woman together?"

The magician immediately formed a magic ball and, giving it to the brahmin, said, "If a man puts this ball in his mouth, whoever sees him will suppose him a woman, and if a female uses it in the same manner, she appears a man to all beholders."

Next day the magician himself personated the brahmin, and the brahmin, putting the ball in his mouth, being transformed into a woman.

The magician went to the king of Babylon and said, "I am a brahmin and have a son, who, having suddenly become insane, has wandered abroad. This is his wife; if you will admit her into your palace for a few days, then I will go in search of him."

The king granted the brahmin's request and, moreover, gave him something for his expences, and sent the woman to his own daughter.

By this artifice, the magician introduced the brahmin to the king's daughter and himself got good money in hand. The princess shewed great tenderness to the woman, alias the brahmin.

In short, one day the brahmin said to the princess. "Why does your complexion fade in this manner, becoming every day more and more pale, whilst your strength seems exhausted?"

The young woman wanted to conceal her secret from the brahmin, but he, pressing her on the subject, said, "I perceive you are in love with somebody – it will be much better to make me your confidante, when I will certainly apply a remedy to the disease."

The princess related to the brahmin all the particulars of her case.

He said, "If now you were to see that brahmin, do you think you could recollect him?"

She replied, "Yes, I should certainly know him again."

Immediately the brahmin took the ball out of his mouth, and she knew him, and they embraced each other.

After some days, the young lady advised thus with the brahmin, "It is most adviseable that we depart hence and take up our abode in some other country where we may follow the dictates of our inclinations."

Then, having agreed together on this point, the king of Babylon's daughter stole out of her father's treasury a great quantity of gold and jewels, sufficient to support them as long as they should live, and, at night, accompanied by the brahmin, she left the house.

In one day and night they got beyond the limits of her father's dominions and fixed their abode in another territory, where, free of all restraints from others, they entered on the enjoyment of their amorous inclinations with boundless pleasure and delight.

The king was greatly astonished at this event but, notwithstanding his most diligent enquiries, could not find out his daughter because she had escaped beyond the boundaries of his territories.

(lovers, 16th-century painting)

The parrot, having finished the tale, said to Khojisteh, "Now arise, and go to your lover."

She wanted to have done so, when instantly the cock crowed and, dawn appearing, her departure was deferred.

Next: The Son of the King of Babylon

(900 words)

Story of the Day: How the Lark Got her Crest

Here is today's story: How the Lark Got her Crest. This is an Aesop's fable. For your reading pleasure, here are more Aesop's fables, and more stories about larks.

crested lark

HOW THE LARK GOT HER CREST

The lark (according to an ancient legend) was created before the earth itself, and when her father died by a fell disease, as there was no earth, she could find no place of burial for him.

She let him lie uninterred for five days, and on the sixth day, being in perplexity, she buried him in her own head.

Hence she obtained her crest, which is popularly said to be her father's grave-hillock.

Youth's first duty is reverence to parents.



Story Title: The Lark Burying Her Father
Book Title: The Fables of Aesop
Illustrator/Author: Edward Julius Detmold
Published: 1908
Rights: CC0 Public Domain
Online Source: Aesop's Books
Process: Light editing for punctuation and paragraphing.
Additional Notes: Detmold did illustrations for the book, but the text of this fable comes from the translation of ‎George Fyler Townsend.

Holy Land: Legends of El Khudr

The Elijah article in Wikipedia contains abundant information about Jewish, Christian and Islamic legends of Elijah, who is often associated with El Khudr. There is also an article about the Cave of Elijah.

In addition, you might want to look at the Wikipedia article about the dybbuks of Jewish folklore, whom you will also read about here: Dybbuk.

[Notes by LKG]

---

This story is part of the Holy Land Folklore unit. Story source: Folk-lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian and Jewish by J. E. Hanauer (1907).

Legends of El Khudr

The following legend concerning this convent was related by a native of the neighbouring village of Beyt Jala:

"A very long time ago, in the days of the ancestors of our great-grandfathers, the Greek priest was administering the Holy Communion in the church of El Khudr. Now, as you know, the Greeks crumble the consecrated bread into the cup of wine and administer both the elements at the same time by means of a spoon. Whether the celebrant was drunk or not I cannot tell, but this much is certain: that whilst about to put the spoon into the mouth of a communicant kneeling in front of him, he somehow or other he spilled its sacred contents. They fell on to his foot, made a hole right through it, and a mark on the flagstone beneath. The wound which the body and blood of the Saviour made in the foot of the priest never healed, but was the cause of his death.

"Some time afterwards, however, a man afflicted with a grievous disease visited this same church of Mar Jiryis and, without being aware of the fact, knelt down on the flagstone which had received a mark from the falling upon it of the consecrated bread and wine and prayed for recovery. To his great joy, and to the surprise of all present, he was healed on the spot.

"The fame of his cure brought many others who were stricken with incurable maladies to El Khudr and, as soon as they knelt on the sacred stone, they were cured, to the glory of God and of Mar Jiryis, so that the reputation of the church became widely spread and even reached the ears of the Sultan of the Muscovites, who, jealous that so holy a stone should be kept in such an out of the way village, coveted it for the benefit of himself and his people.

"He sent a man-of-war to Jaffa, bearing a letter to the Patriarch of Jerusalem, saying that the slab should be taken up at once and transported to Jaffa. As the Sultan of the Muscovites was a good friend, benefactor, and protector of the Church, the Patriarch did not hesitate to obey his order, and had the stone conveyed to Jaffa. It was placed in a boat belonging to the war-ship in order to be taken on board, but all the efforts of the rowers to reach the vessel were vain, for Mar Jiryis himself appeared and repeatedly pushed the boat back to the shore with his lance. This happened so often that the Muscovites were obliged to desist from their purpose, and when it was reported to the Patriarch, he realised his error, and had the stone brought back and reverently deposited in the church at El Khudr, where it is shown to this day."

On the northern slope of Mt. Carmel there is another celebrated centre of El Khudr worship. It is frequently visited by Jewish, Christian, Moslem, and Druze pilgrims who are in search of bodily or mental healing. Some very remarkable cures are said to have been performed at this place. The following example was told me by the late Dr Chaplin, who was for many years head of the L.J.S. Medical Mission at Jerusalem.

One day there was brought to him a young Jewess, suffering from a nervous complaint which he considered curable, but only by long treatment. The girl's relations at first agreed to leave her at the hospital, but afterwards took her away in spite of his remonstrances. They said that they were sure that she was not really ill, but only under the influence of a "dibbuk" or parasitical demon, and they intended to treat her accordingly.

Some months later the doctor happened to meet the girl in the street and found to his surprise that she was well again. Asking how the cure, which seemed to him astounding, had been effected, he was told that her friends had sent her to Mt. Carmel and locked her up one night in Elijah's cave. Shut up alone, she said, she fell asleep, but was roused at midnight by a light that shone on her. Then she saw an old man all in white who came slowly towards her, saying, "Fear not, my daughter." He laid his hand gently on her head, and disappeared. When she woke next morning she was perfectly well.

Next: Elijah and Saint George

(Cave of Elijah / Jabal Mar Elyas)

(800 words)

Life of Buddha: Two More Encounters

You can learn more about Chandaka (Channa) the charioteer at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

---

This story is part of the Buddha unit. Story source: The Life of Buddha by Andre Ferdinand Herold (1922).

(The Encounters, Laotian temple painting)

Two More Encounters

He decided, nevertheless, to ride once more through the city. But the Gods made a man afflicted with a loathsome disease, and they set him down on the road Siddhartha had taken.

Siddhartha saw the sick man; he stared at him, and he asked the charioteer: "What is this man with a swollen paunch? His emaciated arms hang limp, he is deathly pale and pitiful cries escape from his lips. He gasps for breath; see, he staggers and jostles the bystanders; he is falling. . . . Charioteer, charioteer, what is this man?"

The charioteer answered: "My lord, this man knows the torment of sickness, for he has the king's evil. He is weakness itself; yet he, too, was once healthy and strong!"

The prince looked at the man with pity, and he asked again:"Is this affliction peculiar to this man, or are all creatures threatened with sickness?"

The charioteer answered: "We, too, may be visited with a similar affliction, O prince. Sickness weighs heavily upon the world."

When he heard this painful truth, the prince began to tremble like a moonbeam reflected in the waves of the sea, and he uttered these words of bitterness and pity: "Men see suffering and sickness, yet they never lose their self-confidence! Oh, how great must be their knowledge! They are constantly threatened with sickness, and they can still laugh and be merry! Turn your horses around, charioteer; our pleasure trip is ended; let us return to the palace. I have learned to fear sickness. My soul shuns pleasure and seems to close up like a flower deprived of light."

Wrapped in his painful thoughts, he returned to the palace.

King Suddhodana noticed his son's sombre mood. He asked why the prince no longer went out driving, and the charioteer told him what had happened. The king grieved; he already saw himself forsaken by the child he adored. He lost his usual composure and flew into a rage at the man whose duty it was to see that the streets were clear; he punished him, but so strong was his habit of being indulgent that the punishment was light. And the man was astonished at being thus upbraided, for he had seen neither the old man nor the sick man.

The king was more anxious now than ever before to keep his son from leaving the palace. He provided him with rare pleasures, but nothing, it seemed, could arouse Siddhartha. And the king thought, "I shall let him go out once more! Perhaps he will recover the joy he has lost."

He gave strict orders to have all cripples and all who were ill or aged driven out of the city. He even changed the prince's charioteer, and he felt certain that this time there would be nothing to trouble Siddhartha's soul.

But the jealous Gods made a corpse. Four men carried it, and others followed behind, weeping. And the corpse, as well as the men who carried it and the men who were weeping, was visible only to the prince and to the charioteer.

And the king's son asked: "What is he that is being carried by four men, followed by those others, wearing dark clothes and weeping?"

The charioteer should have held his peace, but it was the will of the Gods that he reply: "My lord, he has neither intelligence nor feeling nor breath; he sleeps, without consciousness, like grass or a piece of wood; pleasure and suffering are meaningless to him now, and friend and enemy alike have deserted him."

The prince was troubled. He said, "Is this a condition peculiar to this man, or does this same end await all creatures?"

And the charioteer answered: "This same end awaits all creatures. Whether of humble or of noble birth, to every being who lives in this world, death comes inevitably."

Then Prince Siddhartha knew what death was.

In spite of his fortitude, he shuddered. He had to lean against the chariot, and his words were full of distress: "So to this does destiny lead all creatures! And yet, without fear in his heart, man amuses himself in a thousand different ways! Death is about, and he takes to the world's highroads with a song on his lips! Oh, I begin to think that man's soul has become hardened! Turn your horses around, charioteer; this is no time to wander through the flower-gardens. How can a sensible man, a man who knows what death is, seek pleasure in the hour of anguish?"

But the charioteer kept on driving toward the garden where the king had ordered him to take his son.

Next: The Fair Maidens

(800 words)

Khasi: U Ksuid Tynjang

This story is part of the Khasi Folktales unit. Story source: Folk-Tales of the Khasis by Mrs. K. U. Rafy (1920).

U Ksuid Tynjang

The Ancient Khasis were wont to people all their beautiful hills and forests with innumerable supernatural beings, who were supposed to be working in the world, either for good or for evil, and dominating all the events of men’s lives. There were Bleis (gods) of all grades, and Ksuids (demons or goblins) without number, and Puris (sprites or fairies), visible and invisible, to be encountered everywhere. The religious observances of the Khasis are mainly intended to fulfil obligations supposed to be imposed upon them by these imaginary beings, who are described as quick to take offence and difficult to appease, hence the many and complicated ceremonies which the Khasi religion demands.

One of the most familiar names in ancient lore is that of U Ksuid Tynjang, a deformed and lame demon who haunted the forests and tormented mankind and, for his misdeeds, had been doomed to suffer from an incurable and loathsome itching disease, which could only be allayed by the touch of a human hand. All the stories related of this repulsive demon are concerned with his forbidding personality and the tortures he inflicted on the victims he captured purposely to force them to rub his body and relieve the terrible itching to which he had been doomed. He used to tickle them to death with his deformed and claw-like hands if they tried to desist from their sickening task.

To lure people into his grasp, he used to imitate the human voice and to shout “Kaw-hoit, Kaw-hoit!” the common signal-cry of people who lose their companions or their way — a cry to which all humane travellers quickly respond, for it is considered equivalent to murder to ignore the signal-cry without going to the rescue. In this way U Ksuid Tynjang was able to locate the whereabouts of lonely wanderers, and thither he would direct his unsteady steps, skipping and hobbling through the jungle, until he came up to them and made them his captives.

In those days a great fair was periodically held at the foot of the Hills, and to this the Khasis from all over  the country were wont to resort, especially the younger folk, who were fond of pleasure and liked to see the show of fine cloths brought there for sale. It happened that two young sisters from the Hills, Ka Thei and Ka Duh, with their brother, attended one of these fairs in the company of some of their neighbours.

It was their first visit to a fair, and they were so taken up with the wonders of it that they forgot all about the time and walked to and fro, gazing at the strange people and wares, until unconsciously they drifted away from their friends.

It was now growing late, and Ka Thei, the eldest sister, anxiously bade the others cling to her that they might retrace their steps and if possible find their companions, but although they walked from one end of the fair to the other, they met nobody they knew. By this they were in great dismay, and they determined to start for home as fast as they could, hoping to overtake their friends on the way.

Evidently everyone was far ahead, for though they walked very fast and called out at intervals, they saw no signs of a friend and heard no response, and by the time they reached the Shillong forests, when they were yet some miles from home, night closed upon them, and they lost their way in the dense dark jungle. It was hopeless to try and proceed further for the path could not be traced in the darkness, so the three timid young travellers sat down, footsore and forlorn, crushed down with foreboding and fear.

Just then, they heard a loud cry in the distance, "Kaw-hoit!" and they all thought it was the cry of one of their friends signalling to them, and the three shouted back in chorus "Kaw-hoit!" and waited expectantly for some one to appear. To their horror, they saw approaching, not a friend as they had expected, but the deformed and diseased figure of a hideous Ksuid, upon which they realised that they had responded to the mimic-cry of U Ksuid Tynjang, whom they had often heard described and against answering whose call they had often been warned.

In a few moments he was with them, and peremptorily he ordered them to rub his itching body with their hands. Although they sickened at the contact, they knew better than to disobey for U Ksuid Tynjang was known to be very cruel, tickling to death those who dared to disobey him.

It happened that the young brother escaped being seen by the demon, a fact which Ka Thei hoped might turn to their advantage, for she had an alert and a resourceful mind. She motioned to him to squat down on the ground, and she hastily took off the knup (leaf umbrella) hanging from her shoulders and covered him with it.

Soothed by the touch of the young maidens’ hands, the Ksuid began to doze. With a little contrivance, Ka Thei succeeded in approaching her brother, quickly stuck some shrubs in the knup to make it look like the surrounding jungle, and whispered to him to crawl away as soon as the dawn broke and seek the path to their village to carry the news of their fate to their parents, and bid them offer sacrifices to the god of Shillong, in whose territory they had been captured, for their deliverance. With the help of the shrub-covered knup, the boy got away at dawn unobserved and reached his home, whereupon his parents offered sacrifices to U ’Lei Shillong for the deliverance of their daughters.

Whenever the Ksuid fell asleep, the sisters were able to take turns at their unpleasant task. In order to lighten their lot somewhat, they planned to kindle a fire for the following night, and they collected dry sticks and made ready; when night fell, they kindled the fire and felt less afraid.

During the night, Ka Duh, in putting some fresh wood on the fire, found a large, heavy dao — an axe-knife — of iron which she showed to her sister, who at once took it as an augury that deliverance was forthcoming and that the god of Shillong was working for them. She at once began to think of a plan whereby the dao might be useful to break the spell of the demon and to free her sister and herself from his power. She heated the thick blade red-hot while the Ksuid slumbered, and, taking it by the handle, she seared his body with the hot iron, so that he died.

Such, however, is the tenacity of all Ksuids that, even when they are killed and die, they do not go out of existence. U Ksuid Tynjang could no longer resume the form of a demon as he had formerly done, but he could assume some other form and remain in his old haunts. The form he chose was that of a jirmi — a creeper of a tough and tenacious nature which entangles the feet of hunters when they run in the chase, and saps the life out of the forest trees, and destroys the plants cultivated by mankind. This plant is known to this day as the Tynjang creeper.

Next: What Makes the Lightning

(1200 words)

Ovid's Metamorphoses: The Death of Hercules

This story is part of the Ovid's Metamorphoses unit. Story source: Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Tony Kline (2000).


The agony of Hercules

He was making offerings of incense and reciting prayers over the first flames and pouring a libation bowl of wine on to the marble altar. The power of the venom, warmed and released by the flames, dissolved, dispersing widely through the limbs of Hercules. With his usual courage, he repressed his groans while he could. When his strength to endure the venom was exhausted, he overturned the altar, and filled woody Oeta with his shouts.

He tries at once to tear off the fatal clothing: where it is pulled away, it pulls skin away with it, and, revolting to tell, it either sticks to the limbs from which he tries in vain to remove it, or reveals the lacerated limbs and his massive bones. His blood itself hisses and boils with the virulence of the poison, like incandescent metal, dipped in a cold pool. There is no end to it: the consuming fires suck at the air in his chest: dark sweat pours from his whole body: his scorched sinews crackle.

His marrow liquefying with the secret corruption, he raises his hands to the heavens, crying: ‘Juno, Saturnia, feed on my ruin: feed, cruel one: gaze, from the heights, at this destruction, and sate your savage heart! Or if this suffering seems pitiable even to an enemy, even to you, take away this sorrowful and hateful life, with its fearful torments, that was only made for toil. Death would be a gift to me, a fitting offering from a stepmother.

‘Was it for this I overcame Busiris who defiled the temples with the blood of sacrificed strangers? For this that I lifted fierce Antaeus, robbing him of the strength of his mother Earth? For this that I was unmoved by Geryon’s triple form, the herdsman of Spain, or your triple form, Cerberus? For this, you hands of mine, that you dragged down the horns of the strong Cretan bull, that the stables of King Augeas of Elis know of your efforts - the Stymphalian Lake, and the woods of Mount Parthenius, with its golden-antlered stag? For this, that, by your virtue, the gold engraved girdle of Hippolyte of Thermodon was taken, and the apples of the Hesperides, guarded by the sleepless dragon?  Was it for this that the Centaurs could not withstand me, nor the Erymanthian Boar that laid Arcady waste? For this,that it did not help the Hydra to thrive on destruction and gain redoubled strength? What of the time when I saw Thracian Diomede’s horses, fed on human blood, their stalls filled with broken bodies, and, seeing them, overthrew them, and finished off them, and their master? The Nemean Lion lies crushed by these massive arms: and for Atlas these shoulders of mine held up the sky. Jupiter’s cruel consort is tired of giving commands: I am not tired of performing them.

‘But now a strange disease affects me that I cannot withstand by courage, weapons or strength. Deep in my lungs a devouring fire wanders, feeding on my whole body. But Eurystheus, my enemy is well! Are there those then who can believe that the gods exist?’

So saying he roamed, in his illness over the heights of Oeta as a bull carries around a hunting spear embedded in its body, though the hunter who threw it has long gone. Picture him there, in the mountains, in his anger, often groaning, often shouting out, often attempting, again and again, to rid himself of the last of the garment, overturning trees, or stretching his arms out to his native skies.


The death and transformation of Hercules

Then he caught sight of the terrified Lichas, cowering in a hollow of the cliff, and pain concentrated all his fury.

‘Was it not you, Lichas,’ he said, ‘who gave me this fatal gift? Are you not the agent of my death?’

The man trembled, grew pale with fear, and, timidly, made excuses. While he was speaking and trying to clasp the hero’s knees, Alcides seized him and, swinging him round three or four times, hurled him, more violently than a catapult bolt, into the Euboean waters. Hanging in the air, he hardened with the wind. As rain freezes in the icy blasts and becomes snow; whirling snowflakes bind together in a soft mass; and they, in turn, accumulate as a body of solid hailstones: so he, the ancient tradition says, flung by strong arms through the void, bloodless with fright and devoid of moisture, turned to hard flint. Now, in the Euboean Gulf, a low rock rises out of the depths and keeps the semblance of a human shape. This sailors are afraid to set foot on, as though it could sense them, and they call it: Lichas.

But you, famous son of Jove, felled the trees that grew on steep Oeta and made a funeral pyre, and commanded Philoctetes, son of Poeas, who supplied the flame that was plunged into it, to take your bow, your ample quiver, and the arrows that were fated to see, once more, the kingdom of Troy (as they did when you rescued Hesione). As the mass caught light from the eager fire, you spread the Nemean Lion’s pelt on the summit of the pile of logs and lay down, your neck resting on your club, and with an aspect no different from that of a guest reclining amongst the full wine cups, crowned with garlands.

Now the fierce flames, spreading on every side, were crackling loudly and licking at his body, he unconcerned and scornful of them. The gods were fearful for earth’s champion.

Saturnian Jupiter spoke to them, gladly, since he understood their feelings. ‘O divine beings, your fear for him delights me, and I willingly congratulate myself, with all my heart, that I am called father and ruler of a thoughtful race, and that my offspring is protected by your favour also. Though this tribute is paid to his great deeds, I am obliged to you, also. But do not allow your loyal hearts to feel groundless fears. Forget Oeta’s flames! He, who has defeated all things, will defeat the fires you see, nor will he feel Vulcan’s power, except in the mortal part that he owes to his mother, Alcmene. What he has from me is immortal, deathless and eternal: and that, no flame can destroy. When it is done with the earth, I will accept it into the celestial regions, and I trust my action will please all the gods. But if there is anyone, anyone at all, who is unhappy at Hercules’s deification and would not wish to grant this gift, he or she should know that it was given for merit, and should approve it, though unwillingly.’

The gods agreed. Juno, also, appeared to accept the rest of his words with compliance, but not the last ones, upset that she was being censored.

Meanwhile, Mulciber had consumed whatever the flames could destroy, and no recognisable form of Hercules remained, no semblance of what came to him from his mother: he only retained his inheritance from Jove. As a snake enjoys its newness, sloughing old age with its skin, gleaming with fresh scales, so when the Tirynthian hero had shed his mortal body, he became his better part, beginning to appear greater and more to be revered in his high majesty. The all-powerful father of the gods carrying him upwards, in his four-horse chariot, through the substance-less clouds, set him among the shining stars.

Next: Birth of Hercules

(Stories from the Greek Tragedians)

(1300 words)

Holy Land: Job and His Family

Iblis makes an appearance in this story, which is the Arabic name for the Devil, also known as Shaytan (compare English "Satan"). There are many legends about Iblis in the Islamic tradition; you can read more about that at Wikipedia.

[Notes by LKG]

---

This story is part of the Holy Land Folklore unit. Story source: Folk-lore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian and Jewish by J. E. Hanauer (1907).

(Ayub / Job and the angel)

Job and His Family

AYÛB, on whom be Peace, was a very rich man with a large family. In order to prove the sincerity of his professed piety, Allah deprived him, not only of all his worldly possessions and his children, but of his health as well. He was afflicted with a skin disease so loathsome that, on account of the smell from his ulcers, nobody but his wife would come within fifty yards of him.

In spite of these misfortunes the Patriarch continued to serve Allah and to give Him thanks as in the day of prosperity. His patience, though great, did not equal that of his wife, who was a daughter of Ephraim the son of Joseph, or else of Manasseh. She not only nursed her husband with great devotion but supported him by her earnings, and, when she could get no work, used to carry him about on her back in an abâyeh while she begged from door to door. This she did for seven years without a murmur.

One day, when she had been forced to leave her husband for a short time, Iblìs appeared to her and promised that if she would worship him, he would cure her husband and restore his lost possessions. The woman, sorely tempted, went to ask leave of Ayûb, who was so angry with her for daring to parley with the devil that he swore, if Allah would restore him to health, to give her a hundred lashes. He then uttered this prayer: "O my Lord, verily evil hath afflicted me: but Thou art the most merciful of those who show mercy."

Hereupon Allah sent Gabriel, who took Ayûb by the hand and raised him. At the same instant the fountain which supplies the Bìr Ayûb in the valley below Jerusalem sprang up at the Patriarch's feet. The latter, by the Angel's direction, immediately drank thereof, and the worms in his wounds at once fell from his body, and when he had bathed in the fountain, his former health and beauty were restored.

Allah then restored his children to life and made his wife so young and handsome that she bore him twenty-six sons. To enable the Patriarch to support so large a family, and also to compensate him for the loss of his wealth, the threshing-floors close to Bìr Ayûb, which belonged to him, were filled with gold and silver coinage rained down by two clouds sent for the purpose.

Softened by these evidences of the Almighty's mercy, Ayûb began to regret his rash oath but could not see how to evade its performance. In this difficulty Gabriel came again to his relief. At the Angel's suggestion, the Patriarch took a palm branch which had a hundred fronds, and giving his wife one tap with it, considered that she had received the promised beating.

Next: Lokman

(500 words)

Reading C: Tales from the Sufis (100 Words)

You will find the texts of the stories below the audio, and the titles are linked to individual blog posts where you can learn more about sources, see notes, etc.

You'll want to click on track 101 to start the audio portion for this section:

Laura Gibbs · Tiny Tales from the Sufis

~ 101. Abu Said's Recitations ~
Abu Said's disciples were worried by his behavior.
"When he recites from the Quran, he makes mistakes," said one disciple. "He keeps leaving out verses."
Another remarked, "Perhaps his mind is on other things."
"Or perhaps he is ill," said another.
Finally, they decided to ask Abu Said if something was the matter, and Abu Said just smiled. "Yes, I know I am skipping some verses. They are the verses about God's wrath."
The disciples still looked puzzled, so he explained. "For me, there is only God's mercy; I leave God's wrath to others. His mercy is what I recite."

~ 102. Abu Said and the Learned Cleric ~
When Abu Said came to a certain city, the city's mayor summoned a learned cleric to challenge him. So, the first time that Abu Said spoke to his followers, this learned cleric was there, ready with a question.
"By law we cannot pray in a garment soaked in much blood," he said, "but much blood is that? Is the blood from a flea enough to pollute the garment?"
"I defer to your expertise regarding the blood of fleas," Abu Said replied. "I am not here to speak of fleas, but to guide those who are on the Path to God."

~ 103. Abu Said and the Straight Path ~
One of Abu Said's disciples was quite wealthy and proud of his fine clothes. When the master and his disciples went walking, he liked to go in front, showing off his clothes.
"No!" said Abu Said. "Walk behind!" So the man walked behind.
"No! Walk on my right!" The man did so.
"No! Walk on my left!" The man did so.
"No! Ahead! Behind! Right! Left!" commanded Abu Said.
The bewildered disciple finally shouted, "Master, where should I be?"
"Put the self away and walk the straight path," replied Abu Said.
At those words, the man awoke and became enlightened.

~ 104. Abu Said and God's Secret Mysteries ~
"I want to learn God's secret mysteries!" a man said to Abu Said.
Abu Said gave him a box. "Take this home with you. I will come tomorrow and reveal what's inside."
The man, however, couldn't resist. He opened the box as soon as he got home, and a mouse ran out, escaping before the man could catch it.
"I asked about God's secret mysteries, and instead you gave me a mouse!" the man shouted angrily at Abu Said the next day.
"I gave you a mouse," Abu Said replied, "to teach you what it means to keep a secret."

~ 105. Abu Said and the Wealthy Disciple ~
A rich man became Abu Said's disciple, surrendering all his wealth. Then he became a beggar, surrendering every coin he received, but Abu Said ignored him.
One night he returned empty-handed, and the doorkeeper wouldn't admit him.
In despair, he wept. "God, I'm now a beggar. My teacher has abandoned me. There is only you, God! Don't leave me!"
God's light shone in his heart and he fainted from rapture. 
When he awoke, he saw Abu Said and the other disciples rejoicing.
"You made me your idol," Abu Said explained. "You finally broke that idol; now you can worship God."

~ 106. Abu Said and the Wine-Merchant ~
Abu Said preached God's Love and the Path of the Heart, but some of his followers wanted to punish wrongdoers instead.
"We should destroy the wine-merchant's shop!" they shouted. "It's a haven for gamblers."
"The wine-merchant in his earthly vanity has no time for God," said Abu Said, "but I am surprised that you have time for the wine-merchant. Busy yourself with God's love, nothing else."
Abu Said then went to the wine-merchant and apologized for his followers. "God's blessings upon you, my neighbor," he said.
Treated with loving kindness, the wine-merchant sold his shop and joined Abu Said's disciples.

~ 107. Abu Said and the King of the Gamblers ~
One day in the market, Abu Said saw some half-naked, scruffy-looking men who were carrying an even more naked and more scruffy-looking man high on their shoulders.
Abu Said asked, "Who are you?"
"I am the King of the Gamblers!" the man replied. "My fellow gamblers made me their king because I lost everything I owned, and I did so without fear."
Abu Said smiled. "I salute you, brave soul!" he said. Then he told his disciples, "May we all become kings as the King of the Gamblers has done, giving up all we have in order to gain God."

~ 108. Abu Said and the Bucket of Ashes ~
One day as Abu Said and his disciples were walking through the narrow streets of a city, a woman poured out a bucket of cold ashes from her balcony, and the ashes fell on top of Abu Said.
His disciples were furious at the woman, but Abu Said only laughed. "Like all sinners, I'm expecting the burning coals of Hell as my eternal punishment," he said. "So if I suffer only cold ashes like this instead, thanks be to God!"
Abu Said thus showed his humility while providing a lesson for his disciples, helping them to set aside their anger.

~ 109. Abu Said and the Bags of Filth ~
One night Abu Said and his disciples walked by the waste-dump where cleaners hauled bags of filth from the latrines.
"The stench is suffocating!" the disciples said. "We should run away from here as fast as we can."
"No!" said Abu Said. "Stand here for a moment and listen."
"Listen to what?"
"Listen to what the bags are saying: We were once delicious food! We were ripe fruits and rich stews! But look at us now: you've ruined us! We should be escaping from you, but instead you want to escape from us. Just listen; that's what the bags say."

~ 110. Abu Said's Horse ~
Bandits attacked Abu Said and his disciples on the road, and they stole Abu Said's horse.
When the bandit chief found out who the horse belonged to, he brought the horse back and apologized. "You are a good man, Abu Said," he said. "My men acted in ignorance; they did not know you."
But Abu Said told him to keep his horse. "It is good to let go, and when we let go of something, we do not seize it again."
These words enlightened the bandit chief, and he quit his life of crime and became a man of peace.

~ 111. Sultan Mahmud's Golden Bracelet ~
One night Sultan Mahmud rode out alone and saw a man sifting earth, looking for gold. Around him were heaps of earth that he had already sifted.
Mahmud approached quietly, threw a golden bracelet among the heaps of earth, and then rode away.
The next night, Mahmud came back, and the man was still there, sifting.
"Surely the gold you found last night would suffice you for many years!" Mahmud said. "Why are you still sifting?"
"I found a dazzling golden bracelet!" the man replied. "Finding such treasure makes me even more eager to keep sifting. Now I'll never stop!"

~ 112. Sultan Mahmud and his Servants ~
The sultan had ten servants, and he wanted to select one as his personal attendant, so he gave each servant a wine-glass. 
"Throw it to the ground!" he said.
All ten did as he commanded.
Next, the sultan asked each one. "Why did you break the wine-glass?"
"Because Your Highness commanded me," they said, one after another after another.
But Ayaz realized that the sultan knew already what he had commanded, and he didn't want to tell the sultan what he already knew. "I await Your Highness's next command," Ayaz replied.
So the sultan chose Ayaz as his personal attendant.

~ 113. Sultan Mahmud Watches Ayaz ~
Ayaz was the sultan's most trusted servant, which made the other servants jealous. Ayaz had been a slave, but now he was the royal treasurer.
"He hides himself in the treasury every day!" they gossiped. "Surely he is stealing."
The sultan decided to watch in secret. He saw Ayaz go into the treasury and open the vault. Ayaz took something out; what was it? The tattered old clothes from his slave days! Ayaz kissed the clothes and then said aloud, "You were a slave until the sultan favored you; never forget."
So the sultan trusted Ayaz even more than before.

~ 114. Sultan Mahmud and the Pearl ~
Sultan Mahmud had a priceless pearl.
"Crush it!" he commanded his vizier.
"I cannot destroy such a treasure!" the vizier protested.
The sultan smiled.
He tried another courtier, who refused, and another, and another. They all refused.
Then the sultan told Ayaz, "Crush it!"
Without hesitation, Ayaz crushed the pearl.
The courtiers shouted in dismay.
"The sultan's command is more precious than any pearl!" declared Ayaz.
"Death to all my court," shouted the sultan, "except Ayaz."
Ayaz then interceded for them. "You are perfection," he said. "Grant them perfect mercy."
Thus Ayaz obeyed the sultan and saved the sultan's court.

~ 115. Ahmad Yasawi and the Seeker ~
A seeker came to see the Sufi master Ahmad Yasawi.
"I want to learn without books and without teachers," the man said. "That way nothing will stand between me and the Truth; I want to be enlightened by the Truth directly."
Ahmad Yasawi smiled at the foolish man. "But do you eat without a mouth? Are you nourished without a stomach? How would you eat if you did not have a mouth? What would be the point of eating without a stomach? You have all those physical organs for a reason, just as books and teachers exist for a reason."

~ 116. Abu Ali and the Old Woman ~
There was an old woman who wanted to make an offering to Abu Ali Daqqaq. "Please accept this piece of gold from me," she said.
But Abu Ali replied, "I can accept gifts from God only; I cannot accept this piece of gold from you."
At that, the old woman laughed. "You must be squint-eyed or something! Is that why you are seeing double? God is one with each of us: we are in God and with God. There is nothing else to see. All gifts come from God."
Then Abu Ali understood and he accepted the piece of gold.

~ 117. Jafar Seeks a Teacher ~
Jafar of Portugal journeyed to Mecca, seeking a teacher.
There, a divine voice told him, "The greatest teacher is ibn-Arabi of Seville."
Jafar returned to Europe, but this ibn-Arabi of Seville was just a schoolboy, not a teacher at all!
"Where can I find the greatest teacher?" Jafar asked him.
"I can't tell," said the boy. "Only time can tell."
Thirty years passed, and Jafar was still searching.
He came to Aleppo. "Who is the greatest teacher?" he asked.
"Ibn-Arabi!" the people all said.
When ibn-Arabi saw Jafar, he smiled. "We meet in the right time and place at last!"

~ 118. Little Rumi and the Angels ~
When Rumi was little, he went with the other boys in the neighborhood up to play on the roof.
"Let's jump from one roof to another!" a boy said.
"That's the kind of game that cats and dogs play," said Rumi. "Let's try something better: we can go up to heaven where the angels are!"
As Rumi spoke these words, he vanished. 
His playmates shouted and yelled, frightened about what had happened.
Then Rumi reappeared. "Angels clad all in green took me up to heaven, but when I saw it frightened you, I told them to bring me back here."

~ 119. Sanai, The Court Poet ~
Sanai was court poet to King Bahram of Persia.
One day Sanai overheard an old Sufi scoffing at Bahram. "He's the world's greatest fool! His wealth is beyond counting, yet he wages war to gain more." Then the old man added, "And his poet is a fool too!"
"What do you mean?" asked Sanai.
"He squanders his God-given talent on an earthly king when he could sing the praises of heaven's own king."
"I am that poet," shouted Sanai, "and I have indeed been a fool, but I renounce my old ways and will now serve the king of kings."

~ 120. Chishti the Musician ~
The great Sufi teacher, Chishti, was a musician. 
Instead of saying the ritual prayers, he made music. Music was his prayer.
Another great Sufi, Jilani, wanted to visit Chishti. Out of respect, Chishti hid the instruments; Jilani was more orthodox, and Chishti did not want to offend his honored guest.
But when Jilani arrived and they sat together in silence, the instruments began to play on their own, filling the room with music.
Jilani smiled. "You do not need to hide your instruments," he said to Chishti. "You cannot hide your instruments any more than you can hide your soul."

~ 121. Nimatullah and the Stolen Lamb ~
Emperor Tamerlane hated the Sufi Nimatullah and plotted against him. Pretending to honor Nimatullah with a feast, he served food that was haram (forbidden).
After Nimatullah ate, Tamerlane shouted, "You ate stolen lamb! It's haram! You will die for your sin!"
"On Tamerlane's orders, I stole the lamb from an old woman," the cook explained.
Then the old woman shouted, "That man robbed me! I was on my way here to give the lamb to Nimatullah as a gift."
Thus, the lamb was not haram: it was meant for Nimatullah all along! Tamerlane was but an instrument in God's plan.

~ 122. Jami and the Would-Be Disciple ~
Jami was a poet and Sufi teacher who lived in fifteenth-century Khorasan; he was born in the city of Jam (in what is now Ghor province in Afghanistan), hence his name: Jami, the man from Jam.
A young man came to Jami, hoping to become his disciple.
Jami had only one question that he asked this prospective pupil: "Have you ever loved anyone with all your heart and all your soul?"
"No," said the would-be disciple.
"Then you must go and love someone," said Jami, "and then you will be ready."
In every heart, there is a spark of fire.

~ 123. Jami and the Physician's Son ~
There was a physician who had become wealthy and prosperous thanks to her medical skills. She decided to apprentice her son to study with Jami, the great Sufi teacher and poet.
Jami then assigned the physician's son to clean latrines.
The mother was upset when the boy told her about this, and she sent twelve of her household servants to go clean the latrines instead.
Jami sent the servants back to her, with this message: "If your son had a disease of the gallbladder, would you give the medicine to your servants, or would you give the medicine to him?"

~ 124. Nasruddin and the Quick Learner ~
There was a would-be disciple who came to study with Nasruddin.
"I'm extremely intelligent," he said to Nasruddin, "and a quick learner! I'm sure I will be one of your best pupils. How long do you think it will take me to become an accomplished Sufi master?"
"Ten years," said Nasruddin.
The would-be disciple looked dejected. "What if I study twice as hard?"
"Twenty years," said Nasruddin.
"That's impossible!" exclaimed the disciple. "Didn't you hear me? I told you I would be one of your best pupils. I really am a quick learner!"
"That's exactly the problem," said Nasruddin, smiling.

~ 125. Nasruddin and the Scholar ~
A famous scholar asked Nasruddin to help him move beyond mere book learning. "Please accept me as your student!" he said.
Nasruddin agreed. "For the first week," he said, "you must go to the marketplace each morning and evening, kiss the ground and then jump up, pulling on your ears and braying like a donkey."
The scholar agreed. Reluctantly.
He came back a week later. "I did what you told me," he said, "and everyone laughed. I felt like a fool, a complete and utter fool!"
"Excellent!" said Nasruddin. "That's a remarkable insight to have gained in just one week."

~ 126. Nasruddin and the Would-Be Disciple ~
A would-be disciple came to see Nasruddin.
It was a cold day, and the disciple asked Nasruddin why he was blowing on his hands.
"I blow on my hands to warm them," Nasruddin explained.
Later, Nasruddin filled two bowls of soup, taking one for himself and offering the other to his would-be disciple.
Then the disciple asked why Nasruddin was blowing on the soup.
"I blow on the soup to cool it," Nasruddin explained.
"I can't trust a teacher who uses the same technique for opposite purposes!" the disciple exclaimed, and he left.
Smiling, Nasruddin ate both bowls of soup.

~ 127. A Conversation without Words ~
Nasruddin and his friend met a dervish in the road.
The dervish said nothing; he silently pointed at the sky.
Nasruddin's friend thought, "This madman could be dangerous!"
Nasruddin pulled a coil of rope from his bag, showing it to the dervish, who then continued on his way.
Nasruddin's friend thought, "I'm glad Nasruddin told the madman we'd tie him up if he became violent!"
But without words the dervish had said, "One truth covers all," and without words Nasruddin had replied, "To seek the truth by ordinary means is like trying to use a rope to climb the sky."

~ 128. God Created the Camel ~
Nasruddin was proclaiming the glory of God's creation. "Everything is created in the best of all possible ways, guided by the infinite wisdom of our Creator."
The people stared at him expectantly, eager to hear more.
"Consider the camel!" Nasruddin continued. "Just imagine if God had created camels with wings. The sky would be dark with flying camels, and they would land on the rooftops and break all the roof-tiles, and they would also poop in the chimneys." He then paused for dramatic effect. "So, let us praise the Creator for his great wisdom in not creating camels with wings!"

~ 129. Nasruddin's Sermon ~
Nasruddin was preaching in a village for the first time.
"Do you know what I'm going to say?" Nasruddin asked.
"No!" the people shouted.
"How can I preach to people so ignorant?" he said and left.
They begged him to come back.
"Do you know what I'm going to say?" he asked again.
"Yes!" they shouted.
"Good! We can all leave."
But they asked him to try one more time.
"Do you know what I'm going to say?" he asked.
"Yes!" shouted some. "No!" shouted others.
"So let those who know teach those who don't!"
That was Nasruddin's last sermon.

~ 130. Nasruddin and the Pilgrims ~
Everyone in Nasruddin's village was preparing to go on a religious pilgrimage.
Everyone except Nasruddin.
All the other villagers loaded up their carts and wagons, their donkeys and camels, and then they set out down the road to begin their long journey.
Later that same day, Nasruddin came galloping up behind them on his donkey.
"What's wrong, Nasruddin?" they asked him in alarm.
"Where's my donkey?" he shouted. "I'm trying to find my donkey!"
They laughed. "You're riding him," they said. "You don't need to go looking for him."
"Really?" said Nasruddin. "So why do you go looking for God?"

~ 131. Nasruddin and the Shrine ~
Nasruddin was traveling to a distant country. 
Along the way, his donkey died of exhaustion, and Nasruddin buried him by the roadside.
As Nasruddin knelt there, weeping, a man saw him and began to weep also.
"Why are you weeping?" Nasruddin asked.
"Like you, I weep tears for the holy saint who's buried here," the man replied.
"There's no saint here," Nasruddin explained. "Just my donkey."
But the man continued to weep.
Then he went and told others.
In time, pilgrims came from all over to visit the shrine of the saint.
Nasruddin, meanwhile, departed, continuing his journey on foot.

~ 132. Nasruddin Crossing the Lake ~
Nasruddin was crossing a lake on a ferry loaded with passengers.
Unexpectedly, a storm arose, and the ferry tossed violently in the rising waves. The passengers started screaming, and many of them prayed loudly. "Save us, God!" they shouted.
Nasruddin, meanwhile, stayed completely calm.
The storm eventually died down, and the ferry reached the shore safely.
"How could you stay so calm?" someone asked Nasruddin. "There was nothing but some planks of wood between us and a watery death."
"There is often less than that between you and death in your everyday life," replied Nasruddin. "You just don't see it."

~ 133. Nasruddin in a New Town ~
Nasruddin was visiting a new town for the first time. He didn't know anybody in the town, and he wasn't sure what to do or where to go; it made him feel uneasy.
He decided to enter the first door he found open: a carpenter's shop.
"Hello!" said the carpenter.
"Hello!" replied Nasruddin. "Did you see me just now walk into your shop?"
"Yes," replied the carpenter, not sure what Nasruddin was getting at.
"And have you ever seen me before?" asked Nasruddin.
"No, I've never seen you before," admitted the carpenter.
"Then how did you know it was me?"

~ 134. Nasruddin Leaves the Tavern ~
It was late at night, and Nasruddin had spent the entire evening in a tavern, drinking and talking, talking and drinking. And drinking.
By the time he decided to head home, he was quite intoxicated.
As Nasruddin staggered through the streets, he ran into the night watchman.
"Who's that there?" asked the watchman. "What are you doing out at this late hour? Where did you come from? Where are you going?"
"Those are all very important questions," said Nasruddin, "very important indeed." Then he smiled. "And if I knew the answers to your questions, I suppose I'd be home already."

~ 135. Nasruddin by Night ~
"You wouldn't know it just by looking at me," said Nasruddin, "but I have truly miraculous powers."
Nasruddin's friend laughed. "So tell me," he said, "what is your most miraculous power?"
"I can see in the dark! In the darkest darkness, I can see as clearly as if it were broad daylight. I need no light of any kind."
"Surely you’re joking!" his friend objected. "I’ve seen you carrying a lantern in the dark, just like everybody else does."
"Of course!" said Nasruddin, smiling. "But I carry a lantern in the dark only so that others won't run into me."

~ 136. Nasruddin and the Frogs ~
Nasruddin's friend saw him throwing money into a pool.
"Nasruddin! What on earth are you doing?" he asked.
Nasruddin smiled. "I'm paying the frogs."
"I don't understand," said his friend.
"Well, I was riding along and my donkey slipped. We were sliding right into the pool! But then the frogs started croaking, and they croaked so loudly that it scared the donkey, so he leaped back up onto solid ground, and we didn't end up in the water. Don't you think the frogs deserve a reward for saving us like that?"
Nasruddin smiled, and kept throwing money into the pool.

~ 137. Nasruddin and the Man's Bag ~
Nasruddin saw a man weeping as he walked along the road.
"What's wrong?" Nasruddin asked.
"I've lost everything. All I have left is here," said the man, holding up a tattered bag.
Nasruddin grabbed the bag and ran.
The man shrieked. "Stop! STOP!"
Nasruddin ran until he was out of sight and then put the bag in the road for the man to find.
The man came trudging along, weeping even more loudly than before.
Then he saw his bag. "Oh, my bag!" he shouted. "I thought you were lost forever!"
From his hiding place in the bushes, Nasruddin smiled.

~ 138. Nasruddin and the Drowning Man ~
Nasruddin heard people shouting by the lake.
He ran to investigate: a man had fallen in. The tax collector! He couldn't swim and was shouting for help.
"Give me your hand!" the people yelled, reaching out their hands for the man to grab. "We'll help you!" But he just kept flailing in the water.
Nasruddin shouted, "Take my hand!"
Immediately, he seized Nasruddin's hand and Nasruddin pulled him to safety.
"You need to understand people," Nasruddin explained. "He's a tax collector, so he's not going to give you anything. But if you tell him to take something, he'll take it!"

~ 139. Nasruddin and the Music Teacher ~
Nasruddin had decided that he would like to learn to play the lute. 
Nasruddin happened to have a lute already, but he did not have much money. He knew that would make it difficult to find a music teacher, but he was determined to succeed.
"Can you teach me to play the lute?" Nasruddin asked.
"I can," said the teacher.
"And how much do you charge?" asked Nasruddin.
"Three silver coins for the first month, and then one silver coin monthly for the second month and thereafter."
"Excellent!" said Nasruddin. "I'll skip the first month and start with the second."

~ 140. Nasruddin at the Baths ~
Nasruddin went to the bathhouse.
When the attendant saw Nasruddin's shabby clothes, he treated him poorly, giving him a threadbare towel and only a tiny piece of soap. Nevertheless, after Nasruddin finished his bath, he tipped the attendant very generously.
On his next visit, the attendant greeted Nasruddin with great respect, remembering the generous tip. He gave Nasruddin several luxurious towels and a new bar of soap. But when he left, Nasruddin gave the attendant no tip at all.
"That's for last time," Nasruddin explained, "and the tip I gave you last time was for this time. Now we're even!"

~ 141. A Sign for Nasruddin's Restaurant ~
Nasruddin made a sign for his new restaurant.
RESTAURANT
"You need to say more!" suggested a friend. So Nasruddin changed the sign:
RESTAURANT - FINEST FOOD
Another friend insisted, "It needs action!"
RESTAURANT - FINEST FOOD SERVED HERE
"Why here?" a third friend objected. "The location is obvious."
RESTAURANT - FINEST FOOD SERVED 
"What else would you do with food?" said a fourth friend.
RESTAURANT - FINEST FOOD
"That's debatable," complained a fifth friend. "Who's to say what food is finest?"
RESTAURANT - FOOD
"All restaurants have food!" scoffed a sixth friend.
So Nasruddin ended up where he began: 
RESTAURANT was all the sign said.

~ 142. Nasruddin's Duck Soup ~
Nasruddin's relative showed up for dinner, bringing a duck. 
Nasruddin made duck soup. 
"Delicious!" said Nasruddin's relative.
The next day Nasruddin added water to the leftover soup. 
A knock at the door: it was a friend of his relative, and he stayed for dinner. "Good soup!" the man said.
The next day Nasruddin added water to the leftover soup again. 
Another knock: a friend of the friend of his relative. When Nasruddin served the soup, the man frowned. "It's not very good."
"What do you expect?" Nasruddin shouted. "It's the soup of the soup of the soup of the duck!"

~ 143. Nasruddin and the Puddle ~
One day Nasruddin almost fell into a deep puddle; a friend grabbed his arm just in time.
Later, whenever this friend ran into Nasruddin, he would remind Nasruddin about it.
"Do you remember how I rescued you?"
"You had a close call with that puddle!"
"How lucky that I was there when you almost fell in the puddle!"
Finally Nasruddin couldn't take it anymore; he jumped into the deepest puddle he could find.
"See! I'm just as wet now as I would have been if I had never even met you!" Nasruddin shouted. "Can you leave me alone now, please?"

~ 144. Nasruddin on the Way to the Cemetery ~
"What is it like to be dead?" Nasruddin asked his wife.
"How should I know?" she replied. "The dead are cold; that's all I know."
Chopping wood the next day, Nasruddin suddenly felt very cold. "I must be dead," he thought. Then he lay down, because that's what the dead do.
People found him there. "This poor man is dead!" they said, and carried him off to the cemetery.
As they argued at a crossroads about which way to go, Nasruddin spoke up. "Perhaps I can help," he said. "If you don't know the way, I can give you directions."

~ 145. A Beggar at the Door ~
A beggar came to a house. "A crust of bread, please, sir!" he said.
The homeowner opened the door and shouted, "What do you think this is: a bakery?"
"A bit of meat?"
"This isn't a butcher's shop, you fool!"
"A sip of water to quench my thirst?"
"Water? Does this look like a river to you?"
The beggar said nothing more, but walked in through the door, pulled up his cloak, and squatted down.
"Hey!" shouted the homeowner. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Since this house serves no useful purpose," said the beggar, "that makes it an outhouse."

~ 146. The Wicked Man's Thornbush ~
A wicked man planted a thornbush in the road beside his house.
The people begged him to destroy the thornbush. "It tears our clothes!" they cried. "It pricks our hands and feet; we're bleeding."
The man didn't care. He did nothing.
"Uproot that thornbush!" ordered the mayor.
"Maybe tomorrow..." said the man. He did nothing.
Then the governor came. "Uproot it now!"
"Maybe later..." said the man. He did nothing.
Then the sultan came. The roots had grown deep; the thornbush couldn't be uprooted.
So the sultan set the thornbush on fire, and the wicked man's house burned down too.

~ 147. The Peasant and the General ~
A peasant was plowing, and a general rode by. 
The general's horse had a stone in his hoof and was lame. "I need your horse!" yelled the general. "I order you to give me your horse!"
"Why should I obey you?" the peasant shouted back.
"Because I'm a general in the army!"
"I know what an army is!" said the peasant. "I was in the army. I got all my orders from the sergeant. You're not a sergeant!"
"I'm a general!" shouted the general.
"I don't know what a general is. Go get a sergeant, and I'll listen to him!"

~ 148. The Farmer and the Thief ~
A farmer caught a man stealing fruit from the trees in his orchard. "I'm going to thrash you!" the farmer shouted.
You can't do that! retorted the thief. "I am only God's servant eating of God's fruits. This is all God's doing."
But the farmer grabbed a stick and began beating the thief. "With God's stick God's servant is thrashing another servant of God. The stick is God's, and so is the back (thwack!) and the sides (thwack!) and the shoulders (thwack!)."
"You're right!" the thief shouted. "I repent. I acted of my own free will! It wasn't God's doing."

~ 149. The Schoolboys and their Teacher ~
Some schoolboys were angry at their schoolteacher, so they decided to trick him.
"Teacher," the schoolboys said to him, "you look so pale. Are you perhaps ill?"
"No, I feel fine!" said the teacher angrily. "Now, attend to your lessons."
They continued day after day. All the schoolboys joined in.
"Are you sure you are well?"
"You look thin. Have you lost weight?"
"Should we fetch the doctor, sir?"
Finally, the teacher took to his bed. "I feel so sick!" he said. "I ache all over! I have sweats! Chills!"
School was canceled.
And it was all the schoolboys' doing.

~ 150. The Tanner who Fainted ~
A tanner who worked with stinking dung and urine wandered by accident one day into the perfumers' bazaar. The smell of the perfume overwhelmed him, and he fell unconscious on the spot.
People tried to revive him, sprinkling him with rose-water. They did not understand that the rose-water was causing his sickness, not curing it.
The tanner's own brother heard what had happened and came running with some dog-dung. "We must do what wise doctors advise: give the patient what he's used to."
It worked: the tanner revived as soon as he smelled the dung.
"Thank you, brother," he said.